


She's damn divine

by ReliantStraylight (LoneCard)



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Date Night, F/M, Femme Crowley, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Gender is fun, Genderfluid, Genderfluid Character, Genderqueer Character, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-18 22:53:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20320855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoneCard/pseuds/ReliantStraylight
Summary: “My dear boy,” He called out towards the closed bedroom door, “Are you nearly ready yet?”“It’s ‘dear girl’ tonight, angel,” Crowley responded as she opened the door with a flourish, sauntering towards him, heels clicking on the floorboards. “and yes, I’m ready to go.”*   *   *In which Gender Hoarding Crowley decides to femme it up for date night. Pure Fluff.





	She's damn divine

Aziraphale adored humanity, he really did. Mainly, he adored the wonderful things they had created throughout the centuries. Books, of course, and bright parks and well tailored clothing. Within their infinite potential, people across the ages had made delights heaven could never dream of.

But his absolute favorite invention of humanity was food. No, not food, cuisine, the expertly crafted dishes that varied so vastly in the ways they delighted the palette. The sweet pastries of the French. The rich, juicy steaks of Argentina. The delicate savory sushi of Japan. And alcohol. Brilliant discovery, alcohol.

Strictly speaking, he didn’t need any of it. But when it came to earthly delights, that never stopped him. He wanted it, and that was good enough for him. Aziraphale definitely wanted food, and sooner rather than later.

His dearest, charming delight, light of his life, had decided to take all the time in the world getting ready for their dinner date. Even now, Crowley was still shuffling around their shared bedroom of their spacious flat while Aziraphale, already dressed, waited patiently on the sofa in the lounge. Aziraphale appreciated the endeavor, and Crowley did clean up quite lovely when the situation called for it.

But the minutes were ticking by and frankly, Aziraphale really wanted dinner.

“My dear boy,” He called out towards the closed bedroom door, “Are you nearly ready yet?”

“It’s ‘dear girl’ tonight, angel,” Crowley responded as she opened the door with a flourish, sauntering towards him, heels clicking on the floorboards. “and yes, I’m ready to go.”

She’d chosen an elegant gown, dark charcoal grey with black floral brocade, snug at the waist, a slight flair to the floor length hemline. Her eyes were lined in a dramatic cat eye and her lips were a glistening shade of dark ruby. Auburn hair was styled in immaculate waves, cascading over her shoulders and bouncing with every step. It was a beautiful ensemble for a beautiful woman.

Aziraphale looked her up and down, brazenly drinking in the sight.

Crowley arched an amused eyebrow, but said nothing. She rather enjoyed the attention, if she was honest with herself. No matter how she presented or identified at any given moment, Crowley took a certain pride in her appearance. Satan knew most demons wore what amounted to rags, and even those with some modicum of dress sense just picked a look and stuck with it. For her, wearing the blackest version of whatever was gracing the most stylish movements of the moment was one of the many joys on Earth she indulged in.

Mostly, it just made her happy to dress to the nines any chance she got. But she can’t deny that seeing Aziraphale eye her the way he does now, an odd blend of reverent and ravenous, certainly has her feeling in some sort of way. She felt the start of a flush rising to her cheeks.

Still, they do have plans for the evening. She slid on her sunglasses with a flourish and smiled.

“If we’re both ready, I suppose we should start making our way out.”

“Of course, my dear girl,” Aziraphale said, standing and offering her his arm. “I do believe our reservation at the Ritz awaits.”

* * *  
“Yes,” Aziraphale told the host, “I believe the reservation is under the name A.Z. Fell, for myself and my lovely wife.”

“Of course. Right this way, Mr. And Mrs. Fell.”

Their usual table was set and ready for them by the time they arrived, and they had been seated and served quite some time ago. Aziraphale was currently gesturing with his fork and recounting a particular rare bible that had given him some trouble recently.

“Really, that man simply would not budge on his asking price,” Aziraphale explained, fork in hand waving around as he spoke, “Of course, I was willing to pay nearly anything, for a book of that significance. I spent the better part of a week convincing him I was completely able to pay up, as they say.”

“You don’t say, Crowley answered with a hint of a smirk, “Did you end up getting the book?”

“Obviously. I gave him everything he was asking for. And er, if he happens to notice the rest of his collection is of lesser value than originally catalogued-”

Crowley let out a charming, barking giggle as she fought against choking on her wine.

“Oh, angel,” she gasped out, “Of course you did!”

Aziraphale smiled at her, beaming at her joy.

“Shall we order another bottle?”

She nodded, still laughing and Aziraphale looked around to signal for their server. As he did so, he couldn’t help but notice something.

It was a busy evening at the restaurant. It was mainly filled with the sort of people that conspired in government funded back room deals, wearing suits that were ostentatious in their self-important blandness. The kind of people for whom power and influence were less of lure and more a banal fact of life.

Several of these people were staring at Crowley, with varying degrees of subtlety. Some looked over Crowley’s form with lust, some with envy, some with avarice. A select few with more than one simultaneously. If she had still been concerned with doing her job as a demon, she’d have been very proud at how much sinning she has induced just by walking into a room.

Of course, she tended to do just that no matter how she presented. At any point along the spectrum of gender, Crowley could make it languidly seductive. (Those tight black trousers left little to the imagination, thank goodness). That was an ingrained part of the personality within.

“Could I tempt you to try some dessert? The angel cake here is remarkable.”

Crowley leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. She focused intently on Aziraphale, as though the rest of the restaurant, the rest of the world, didn’t exist. He smiled, knowing that all the lust in the world wouldn’t distract her from him.

“You can always tempt me, angel,” She said.

So he did. (The cake was delicious.)

* * *  
Crowley held the door of the Bentley open as Aziraphale climbed into the passenger seat. He settled in, a full stomach and a slight champagne buzz making him feel warm and content like nothing else could. He closed his eyes and leaned back, breathing in the moment.

Then Crowley slammed the driver side door behind her and revved the engine.

“The night’s still young,” She said, lips turned in a bright red grin, hands already gripping and turning the wheel as though she were on an open racetrack. “Up for a joyride, angel?”

“If you insist,” Aziraphale responded, but he smiled all the same. The streetlights and intermittently lit windows blurred past. These days, he rather liked going fast, if it was with Crowley.

But no evening lasts forever, and soon they’d circled London more than enough for one night.

Thankfully, A parking spot was miraculously available right in front of Aziraphale’s bookshop. He climbed out of the car and walked towards the steps when he noticed the lack of heels clicking on the pavement.

“Hang on a second,” Crowley called out, leaning against the Bentley and reaching towards her shoes. “These things are murder.” 

She slipped off her high heels with a slight hiss, rubbing at her sore arches. Aziraphale walked back to her and offered her his arm to lean on, which she took automatically and he lead them in. She held the heels in her free hand, letting them dangle and sway in the evening air.

“Honestly,” She whined, dropping her heels by the doorway as they entered the bookshop, locking the door behind them. “How could something so sexy be such a pain?”

“I often ask myself that very question,” Aziraphale replied without missing a beat, deliberately eyeing Crowley up and down.

She let out a strangled sort of laugh and went a touch red.

“Angel!” She breathed out in disbelieving awe.

“Yes, my dear?”

“You know what you’re doing,” She hissed playfully as she stepped closer to him.

“I can’t help it,” Aziraphale said.

“I bet you can’t,” Crowley murmured, nearly against his lips. “C’mere, Aziraphale.”

They kissed, gently and slowly. Her lips were red and glossy, soft and slightly smudged after an evening full of food, drink, banter and laughter. She tasted like divinity. She tasted like damnation. She tasted like something in between, something else altogether.

Aziraphale pulled away just for a second, noting her lidded eyes and shallow breathing. He kissed along her cheek, her jaw, her neck, letting his hands wander up her waist. He felt her throat shift beneath his lips as she swallowed, her head tilting back the slightest bit.

“Maybe we should head upstairs. Y’know, get comfortable.”

“Wait. Before we go up,” Azriaphale said, gently pushing on Crowley’s shoulders. “I’d like to look at you for a moment.”

“You’ve been looking at me all night, angel,” Crowley quipped. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

“Oh, I know,” He replied as he reached out to carefully slide Crowley’s sunglasses off her face, “but I’d like to see you properly.”

Crowley sighed, leaning in instinctually.

"You are so good, Crowley. Absolutely good."

“Should we head up now, then?” She asked. “I think I’d rather like to look at you properly too.”

* * *

“Mmh, Good morning, angel,” Crowley mumbled, tangled in sheets and a black nightgown that fit like robes. 

The late morning sun was shining across their shared bedroom in their shared rooms above Aziraphale’s bookshop. London was just starting to come alive outside, a light traffic and hints of city chatter. Crowley’s hair glowed in the sunlight, tangled waves looking artfully rumpled spread over the pillows.

“Good morning, my dear girl,” Aziraphale murmured back. 

“Eeh.”

“Dear boy?”

“Neither, today, I think. I’m tired, mainly.”

“You can go back to sleep then, my dear,” Aziraphale gave his spouse a kiss on the forehead. “I’ll be here whenever you awake.”

“Hmm,” Crowley hummed with a little smile, eyes fluttering closed and cuddling closer into Aziraphale’s arms. 

Crowley has oscillated between appearances and presentations throughout the six thousand years they’ve known each other. There were century long stretches where Crowley had picked a gender and lived it to the fullest, and there was an equal amount of time when Crowley swapped between genders like a nightingale flitting from tree to tree.

Gender was one of humanity’s most interesting quirks. Around since nearly The Beginning; Not quite invention, not quite discovery. Aziraphale didn’t bother with it for the most part, content to let humans make their own conclusions about him. It was easier, really. Crowley, on the other hand, had dived right in, delighting in all the different ways to be human, to express, to live among them. Wearing and flaunting every manner of humanity like a second skin.

Ultimately, though Crowley had lived as every gender on Earth throughout the millennia, nothing really changed. So Aziraphale held his darling slumbering spouse and thanked whatever Plan that She’d had that involved the two of them together, that involved wild late nights and lazy sunny mornings.

Crowley was, and would always be, Crowley. Aziraphale had fallen for sharp quips, flustered glances and a love of humanity heaven never had. And it was Good.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written fanfiction in 12 years, but these two dorks and Crowley's gender-hopping broke me. So enjoy some femme-presenting Crowley and an adorable date night! I have no idea what I'm doing.
> 
> I'm also ReliantStraylight on Tumblr, but that's a mess and a half.
> 
> EDIT: Fixed a touch of grammer here and there. Thank you all so much for the kudos and kind comments!


End file.
